


Punish Me

by adolescence



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Choking, Discipline, F/M, One-Shot, Spanking, breath play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 12:26:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9820529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adolescence/pseuds/adolescence
Summary: Some Negan style discipline for all you naughty readers. ;)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for my beautiful wife because she's Negan-crazy (and ay, same), so yeah. This is my first Canon x Reader fanfic and my first hetero-based fic (or writing in general) for awhile, so take that as you will.
> 
> Literally watched like seven episodes of this new season of the Walking Dead just so I could grasp Negan's character. xD I need help.
> 
> But anyway.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> (Also, I posted it on Tumblr - http://srxxn.tumblr.com/post/157423144188/punish-me )

“You think you could just, what? Walk in here and act like you own the damn place?” Negan watched you, looking as impressed and intrigued as he did completely irate.

The courage you had once had was dwindling and you found your hands shaking a little as the older man neared you, barbed bat slung loosely in his hand. It swung with each calculated step.

You stayed silent as he closed in because there wasn’t much that could save you now. Not with the way his hand flexed around the neck of Lucille. A lump formed in your throat as streams of sunlight filtering in from between the blinds made the barbs on Lucille glinted as well, almost mimicking the murderous one in Negan’s.

“You gonna answer me?” Negan’s voice was a low rumble. He raised Lucille with a twist of his hand, angling her up. Involuntarily, you backed up, matching Negans’ movements until you felt a wall at your back. He stopped far enough away that the barbs on Lucille didn’t prick either of you. Negan looked between the two of you; following the length of Lucille before running up the length of you, dark eyes settling on your own. Even if the man didn’t tower over you like he so obviously did, it probably wouldn’t have helped the unease turning your stomach. His lips curled up devilishly at the corners, parting to let out an amused chuckle. “She ain’t gonna bite, doll. Promise.”

All of that was just for show. He leaned over, gently leaning Lucille against the side table. Negan smirked, turning back on you with hooded eyes. Despite having the threat of Lucille gone for the moment, it didn’t waver the intense gaze boring into you, nor the way he made you feel small, closing the short distance between the two of you, raising his gloved and bare hands and placing them at either side of your head, boxing you in. You could smell the scotch on his breath.

Furrowing his brow, he looked your face over, searching for something. Negan usually knew how to read people, so it wasn’t a ridiculous assumption that he was trying to figure out the words you weren’t speaking.

“You undermined me, in front of my people,” You jumped at the sudden bellowing tone of his voice - the kind of tone that could make the strongest knees buckle.Then it was that low rumble again. “Seein’ as your one of my wives, that looks pretty damn bad, doesn’t it?”

“What would the people think? Me letting you get away with that? Huh?” Negan looked at you, eyebrows raised expectantly. “What. Do you. Think.”

“They’d- they’d think you’re getting soft.” You answered, hands splayed against the wall behind your back. The smooth surface offered no purchase.

Negan smiled, looking pleased with your answer. “Exactly,” He drawled. ”And we can’t have that, now, can we?”

“No, S-Sir.” You shook your head a little. The small space between you didn’t allow room for much movement beyond that.

His head reared back slightly, giving you room to breathe up until he pressed his hips into yours. Your mouth went dry, feeling his arousal pressing unabashedly into your leg. All you could do was blink a couple times and look up at him, surprise apparent as your lips fell into a small “o”.

“Between you ‘nd me…” Negan’s voice was a low, gravelly murmur. “What you did back there- it was smokin’ hot. It- god. It really got me goin’,” He revealed with a grin. “But I know that you know better’n that. Isn’t that right, darlin’?”

“Yes.” You nodded, clutching at the wall behind you as he shifted his hips.

“Good girl.” Negan praised, his gloved hand coming from the wall to push your hair out of your face. The cool leather grazed your brow, and his eyes followed his movements until his gaze fell back onto yours. He caught your chin between his fore and middle fingers, locking your head in place. “You do know that I gotta punish you now, right? Can’t let somethin’ like that slide.”

Unable to find your words, you just nodded again, swallowing back your fear. You knew you were safe, well kinda, for the most part - the offense was minor and you were one of his wives. He would still want your face pretty, your body the same. But Negan was fucking insane, so unpredictability came with the territory. There were plenty of other things he could do to you.

The pressure of his hips eased.

A laugh came, deep and throaty, from the man standing over you, and you knew the fear was obvious in your eyes. “No need to be afraid, sweetheart. Don’t I always take good care of you?” He didn’t wait long for a response, a grin pulling at his lips, showing off his teeth. “Oh, yes. We’re gonna have some fun to-night.”

The fingers trapping your head in place slid down the column of your throat, eyes focused and bright with interest, hand wrapping around your neck. Your eyes widened as he started to close his hand around your throat. Even with the pressure being as slight as it was, it was still disconcertingly uncomfortable and made your breathing shallow, strained.

“What’re you-” You didn’t get to finish your hoarse question before his hand tightened, cutting you off. Your hands flew up from their place on the wall to clasp around Negan’s arm, one wrapping around his wrist. Neither touch made him relinquish his hold.

“Sorry, doll. What was that? Didn’t quite catch it.” He smiled, almost pleasantly, and only tightened his fingers around your throat. It wasn’t nearly enough to hurt - not too bad, at least - but any kind of pressure on anyone’s throat would be uncomfortable. And it was still cutting off your airway.

You let out something of a squeak as you tried to pull his arm away from your neck, a sound that would have been embarrassing in any other situation. You even tried to pry his fingers off, one by one, but he had an iron grip. You didn’t have enough room to bring your knee up, much less your leg to kick him off and away, and even if you had you didn’t think you would be stupid enough to do so. He might like it, but then again that could just piss him off. It wasn’t in your best interest, so you just struggle and wriggled under the weight of his hand.

All Negan did was lick his lips, his face inches away from yours. The only reason he wasn’t closer was because he liked the way his fingers closing in over your pretty throat looked too much.

Your vision started to spot.

The pressure eased and you gasped for air, clutching his arm and shoulder. If your desperation for oxygen hadn’t been what it was, you might have worried about scratching his leather jacket.

“N-Negan.” You breathed, voice hoarse.

“Real pretty like this, y’know?” Negan said distractedly, fixated on your face, your jaw, your neck, collarbones, whatever his eyes could drink in this close. “You’re so… pliant,” His lips twitched, and he looked up to meet your eyes. “That’s always been your problem, hasn’t it? Always lookin’ to fight me on every. Damn. Thing. I mean, don’t get me wrong, doll. It’s hot as hell, but it gets a little… tiresome, havin’ta keep you in line all the fuckin’ time. But I’m guessin’ that’s why this is gettin’ me so damn hot.”

You opened your mouth to say something, not sure what words your lips were planning to form beforehand, but he cut you off with an experimental squeeze, his hips pressing back into yours. Again, his erection was pressed right up against you. It didn’t intimidate you like it had before. If anything, you could relate. This… whatever the hell this was, it wasn’t exactly one-sided. Not mentally, and certainly not physically. 

“Y’know, none of the others let me do this,” Negan mused, pursing his lips in thought as he concentrated on this, as well as what you assumed to be thinking about the other wives. “I betcha they’d bite and kick and scratch if I tried anything like this,” He said, and lowered his voice like it was you guys’ little secret. “Most of ‘em are a little too vanilla for my taste. But you, sweetheart? Always one helluva ride.”

The growl sent a pleasant shiver down your spine and your lips parted slightly; you would have sighed if it hadn’t been for the hand pressing incessantly on your windpipe.

The squeeze hadn’t been enough to constrict your breathing too much, but when he let up again, you were still relieved. The unpredictability of this man had always put you on edge, but at the same time that was exactly what you liked about him. What made you stick around aside from the fact that you didn’t have much of a say in the matter anymore.

“Bet you’d let me do just about anything to ya and you’d beg for more, huh?” He taunted, trailing just the tips of his gloved fingers over the sides of your sore, sensitive throat. “Betcha you’re gonna like what I got in store for you, darlin’. You’re not supposed’ta, but I’m thinkin’ that won’t matter to you too much, huh? My dirty little girl… Deep breath, now.”

You barely registered what exactly he meant, still running over his words in your head. Those promises sounding so damn good coming out of his mouth, when you knew damn well that they shouldn’t. Especially not when this, his hands around your throat, was just him getting started. His gloved hand began closing around you again, this time much less merciful. Blood was rushing in your ears in no time and your vision spotted within seconds. Fight or flight, survival, whatever you liked to call it, it was most definitely there. Present. Especially living in the world you lived in, that you both lived in, but you found yourself fighting off those instincts and giving into a more primal urge. But it was still only natural for you to writhe under him and clutch him.

He released faster that time, faster than the last two. If you passed out right there, then there would be less time for play, you surmised. You gasped and coughed, your throat screaming with protest. Muscles in your neck throbbed, the blood flow trying its best to regulate even as Negan’s persistent hand threatened another squeeze. You were grateful and disappointed when it never came.

“Fuck,” You sputtered, fingers relaxing their holds on the man.

“We’ll get to that, darlin’. Just you wait.”

Just like that, Negan pulled away from you, leaving you to support yourself on your own two feet. You managed with the help of the wall behind you, and you watched him take a few steps back. His eyes ran you up and down, appraising you.

“Strip.”

The abrupt order had you stalled for a moment. You just blinked at him dumbly a couple of times. “What?”

His face hardened. “Strip.”

Swallowing back protests at the command, as well as your pride, you compelled yourself to follow through. You didn’t really have a choice in the matter, whether you ever wanted it or not. He’d never force himself on you, but it was either that or you were thrown back to the shit jobs you had before Negan took an interest in you. You weren’t always reluctant to share his company, and all of the dirty things it entailed, but whenever Negan was looking at you in that way… you just knew that this wasn’t all going to be sexy fun times.

You didn’t realize how bad your hands were shaking until after you’d shrugged off your jacket and pulled off your shirt and had gotten down to your jeans. You had some trouble with the button. You glanced nervously up at Negan, who was just raising an eyebrow at you, a corner of his lips pulled up in amusement. You looked back down to save yourself some of the embarrassment and worked on the button again. Finally, you managed to pop it open. Pulling down the zipper was much easier.

Negan gave a low whistle when you pushed your pants down to pool at your feet. You couldn’t blame a lack of oxygen for the way your cheeks heated up now. He held up two fingers and bent them in the universal come hither motion. You obeyed, stepping out of the puddle of fabric and talking a few steps closer to him, your heart beating wildly in your chest. It blended in seamlessly with the buzz in the rest of your body. The fear that had once been the prevalent emotion had been replaced by something else, something almost as feral as the grin on Negan’s face.

“Do a little spin for me, wouldja, darlin’?” He said, twirling his finger in a lazy motion a couple times for emphasis. He lowered it, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you expectantly.

You took a breath. You still had your bra and panties on, but with the way he was looking at you, you might as well have been buck-ass naked. Thankfully you still did have these little articles of clothing, however minute.

It wasn’t like he’d never touched you before now. You were one of his wives, of course he’d had you before. But this time… this time it was different. You do know that I gotta punish you now, right? You couldn’t exactly remember the last time you’d been truly frightened. The undead were crawling everywhere you went, and if that didn’t even faze you so much anymore, what could? Maybe the first time you met Negan. When he wielded Lucille like she was just simply a lethal extension of his arm. When he pointed her right at you and wore that grin that could make even the most fearless of your group shudder. Yeah. That must have been the last time.

You moved carefully because you weren’t so sure you trusted your legs at the moment. It wasn’t like you were a blushing virgin or anything, but Negan wasn’t with you under friendly circumstance. As childish as it sounded, you were in trouble. So, like a good girl, you spun for him as gracefully as your legs would allow, stopping whenever you were, once again, facing Negan.

“Perfect, doll,” He purred, dark eyes still glued to your body. Negan drank you in, a pleased, predatory smile pulling at his lips.

Negan’s eyes ran up to meet your own as he turned, starting towards the bed. His gaze left you as he began taking off his jacket, sliding the leather smoothly off his arms and folding it, carefully lying it across the bed. You watched, unsure of what he was planning whenever he stopped there with his undressing and sat at the edge of the bed. He grinned, raising his eyebrows at you expectantly as he patted his lap.

I gotta punish you now.

Oh, god.

“Are you-” You trailed off, furrowing your brow as the pieces fell together. “You’re gonna- spank me? Like a child?”

“If you act like a child - which you oh-so-definitely have, princess - then I’m going to treat you like one,” Negan’s voice was that commanding bellow again. He smiled then, patting his lap again. “Now lay across Daddy’s lap.”

Your heart was racing now. Negan couldn’t be serious… Right? Jesus. You couldn’t deny the way the idea sent that same tremor from earlier, when his hand was around your throat, down your body, but it still made you uneasy. Dealing with the world they were in today, everybody had to have some tolerance for pain, but this? This was different, just like that glint in his hooded, expectant eyes.

Obediently, with just a little visible reluctance, you walked towards him. You paused before him and he watched you, a measurable patience in his eyes that you were sure wouldn’t be there much longer. So you followed through with it, lowering yourself onto his lap.

Your breath hitched as you felt his arousal pressed against your bare stomach. His hand came to rest at the small of your back, rubbing in almost tender circles. Negan’s voice was surprisingly close when he whispered. “Good girl.”

Negan’s hand slid down the curve of your spine, stopping at your ass. Your toes curled in anticipation, eyes squeezing shut, only to fly open again whenever his gloved hand came up to your throat. The pressure was soft, but the threat still lingered.

“Tell me why I’m doing this,” Negan said. “Tell me what you did wrong.”

There was a moment of silence that crept over the both of you. It didn’t feel as if there should be any excitement about something like this, like this was actually supposed to have some degree of seriousness, but it was almost electric as it thrummed through the air around you. Warmth settled low in your belly, urging you to speak up.

“I t…” You began, trailing off. You swallowed down your inhibitions. “I spoke out of turn. I- I undermined you in front of everyone.”

“Good girl,” Negan praised gently, giving your ass a small squeeze. “So now I have to…” He drew out the last word, wanting you to fill in the blank.

“Put me in my place,” Your cheeks were burning as you managed to choked out the the last words, “-punish me.”

A deep, slow chuckle left him. His gloved hand left your throat, instead taking a place at your back as if to hold you steady. He tutted then, pulling at the waistband of your panties. “These won’t do,” He said, sliding them down your legs and off seamlessly. “Much better.”

“Hope you’re ready, darlin’,” You could hear the smile in his voice. “Don’t forget to count.”

It confused you, for a moment, about what he meant by that, but right as it clicked, the soft pressure of his hand left you, only to come back down, and hard. The action punched a yelp out of you and you clutched at his jean-clad leg, at the bed.

“One.” Negan said, and you meekly repeated the word. He hummed in a pleased manner, rubbing the red spot surely blooming on your stinging rear. “Good.”

The warmth of his hand left you once again and you tensed. Rightfully so, because it came down again, and just as hard. You hissed at the sting, clutching at his jeans again in fistfuls.

“Two.” You managed on your own, voice wavering.

“Good.” He praised, a bit more clipped. Another smack.

“Th-three.”

You counted to six before you felt that something again. The warmth that coiled low in your stomach, that made your aching pussy throb with want. It was soon after that that your thighs began to tremble - from need or exertion, you weren’t too sure - and by the eighth time his hand came down on your ass, you were questioning just how long you’d be able to hold out. Eight didn’t seem like much to you, but you were feeling it now. You were feeling just what those capable hands were made of. You knew both sides well - the tenderness and the cruelty - and this lied somewhere between the two. If the wetness at the apex of your thighs told you anything, or the way all of this felt, you’d lean more towards tenderness, of a kind of messed-up caring, but your swollen, red ass would beg to differ, making the cruelty a more appealing word for what he was inflicting on you.

“N- nine.” Your voice was done for with the way it wavered, and your thighs were weak and shaking, like your resolve. If he didn’t stop- “P-lease, Negan.”

“Please, what?” Negan asked, his hand taking up a small circling motion, rubbing the sore swell of your rear gently.

Your lip quivered, because you didn’t actually know what exactly it was that you were asking for. Please what? You wanted him, so bad, and it must have been so obvious to him; you were embarrassed at the thought of your arousal seeping into his jeans. Not to mention you were practically writhing in his lap.

When you didn’t answer, Negan’s hand came down on your ass once more and it was like a domino effect. You grabbed fistfuls of denim and your toes curled, body tensing and doing the telltale tremble. Throwing your head back with of a strangled cry of release and a buck of your restless hips, you came unabashedly over his lap. The searing, white hot pleasure washed over you in waves, nerves buzzing from the abruptness and the shock. That had… that had never happened to you before. But then again, none of this had ever happened to you before; the choking, the spanking, the discipline.

In the glowing aftermath of what you had just done, your post-orgasm flushed cheeks and body burned not just a pretty pink, but a deep scarlet. Not out of shame, really. More embarrassment. You could feel it running so unabashedly down your quivering legs as your body went boneless over his lap, as your fingers loosened in the fabric of his clothing.

You could only lie there and blink, as if still having trouble believing it had just happened.

“Did you just…?” Negan inquired, leaving it ambiguous but all the more obvious. There was a quiet manner about his voice, tinged with an uncertainty you had never heard before. It only made your face burn hotter.

Swallowing, you finally found a breathless answer. “… Yeah.”

The silence stretched on a little longer, and you were about to push yourself up and off of him, even if you ended up in the floor. Just as you started to move, a chuckle erupted from him that almost ended up startling you into the floor itself.

“Holy shit.” He laughed, as if the embarrassment of the act itself wasn’t enough. It wasn’t much later, though, that Negan’s laughter faded and he was reaching for your chin, tilting it up and with it, tipping your head back. Perhaps you were even redder than you imagined because his expression almost turned sympathetic. If there was an amused way to be sympathetic to another person.

“Ah, doll, that ain’t nothin’ to be ashamed of,” Negan nearly cooed. A naughty smirk pulled at his lips. “It was fuckin’ hot, sweetheart. I mean- I knew you had to have some kind of freaky side, but this?” He chuckled again, this time softer. “This was a fuckin’ treat. Which is why I’ve generously decided to let you get away with it.”

You relaxed some, clouded gaze softening.

“This time.”


End file.
